


Unmasked

by rudbeckia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Clothed Sex, Costume Parties & Masquerades, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25359538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: General Hux is required to attend a masquerade ball in honour of a diplomatic agreement between the First Order and a planet with strong enough local customs that he feels compelled to attend. And wear a “famous historical figure” costume.After checking that Kylo Ren is not going to be there, he realises that there is one obvious historical character he could dress up as.Is his Darth Vader costume really so good that he has managed to catch the eye of the very striking looking person dressed as Queen Amidala of Naboo?
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 15
Kudos: 90





	Unmasked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jellyfishsodapop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfishsodapop/gifts).



> For huxhibitionism over on twitter who won my “300 follower” thing. Hope you like!

Hux glared at the embossed card Mitaka had just presented to him with a salute, clenched his jaw until his cheek twitched, then he sighed and looked up from where the stylish, printed invitation lay on his desk. “Are you absolutely sure there hasn’t been some mistake, Lieutenant.”  
Not daring to meet his general’s gaze, Mitaka stood at parade rest and stared into the air over Hux’s left shoulder. “No sir. I’m afraid the message was quite clear. Apparently it’s traditional to dress as a historical character.”  
“A masquerade ball?” Hux spoke with a derisive sneer. “Adults playing dress-up. It’s ridiculous. I can’t wait to stamp out this sort of nonsense.”  
“Yes, sir. Um?”  
“Out with it, Mitaka.”  
“I am to relay your acceptance back to the ambassador as soon as possible, sir.”  
“Well then,” Hux said, shrugging. “I suppose on a diplomatic visit I should abide by local customs. You may inform the ambassador that I will attend.”  
“Yes, sir.”

Mitaka saluted and turned to leave. Hux’s voice called out again.  
“Oh, one moment!”  
He turned to face Hux again. The general was frowning and chewing his lip, holding the card between finger and thumb and tapping it on the desk.  
“Has Kylo Ren also been invited?”  
Mitaka shook his head. “I believe Leader Ren’s schedule prevents him from attending.”  
Hux smiled. “Well, that’s one less headache, I suppose. You’ll be there, of course. I’ll need an assistant to keep track of any important conversations. Tell Opan I will expect him also.”  
“Yes, sir. I will relay your instructions at once and tell the ambassador to expect a party of three.”

After the door closed behind Mitaka, Hux sighed again. He’d need a costume that would convey his respect for the local population, however backward he thought them, and his dignity at the same time. He read the invitation card—an unnecessary extravagance when a simple comm would have been as effective—with resignation. At least if Kylo Ren was absent because he was off on some hare-brained mission chasing ghosts of the resistance, he might be able to do some subtle undermining of the Supreme Leader’s position. The _current_ Supreme Leader, Hux thought with a smile. Now, he thought—closing his eyes to savour the idea of sowing seeds of doubt about Ren’s leadership and reversing their current command structure—a costume.

The costume gave him a headache. All the next morning Hux went over famous people from the Empire, selecting and abandoning figures like Grand Moff Tarkin and even the Emperor himself. The idea for a perfect costume crashed into his brain an hour later when he was on the bridge, and his bark of laughter startled Captain Peavey so much the man actually jumped.

The Finalizer, newly refitted after the Battle of Batuu, was as much like a small town as a military vessel could be. As such, it boasted approved cantinas and shops where First Order credits could be spent, and services such as custom tailoring for officers who preferred a more comfortable fit than the standard size uniforms provided. It was a simple matter for Hux to send a few reference holos cribbed from vintage Imperial propaganda material and a sentence explaining what he desired. His usual tailor would have the costume ready within a standard day. The mask was a more challenging construction since there were no existing plans for its design and the only example of its style was a melted, misshapen lump in Ren’s chambers, but the eager young lieutenant he spoke to in the engineering department seemed confident that she could make a reasonable facsimile within a few hours, as long as he did not require anything more complicated than the standard stormtrooper electronics inside.

As he was departing, the officer asked if it was a gift for Leader Ren. Hux had not wasted any thinking time on what he might do with the costume after the masquerade. He stopped in his tracks, turned and frowned at her, but softened his features when he saw her horrified expression at having spoken out of turn. He smiled.  
“Well now.” Had she been one of his inner circle of officers, he might have winked. “I can trust you not to mention it, can’t I? It wouldn’t do to spoil the surprise.”  
“No, sir!” She snapped out a smart salute and a grin. “You can count on my discretion.”  
Hux left with a note of Lieutenant Ola Kanderson’s name and every intention of having Opan look up her service record and either dispose of her or recruit her. Perhaps a materials and fabrications engineer would be a sound addition to his personal team. You never know when you might need custom body armour.

The day of the masquerade ball arrived. Opan and Mitaka, dressed as Mandalorians, stared as Hux opened the shuttle door to them in full Darth Vader costume. Mitaka even took a step backwards.  
“Sir, that’s...” Opan paused. “Bold.”  
“Our hosts were Imperial sympathisers once. I thought a costume reminding them of the birth of the First Order from the Imperial remnants might smooth negotiations.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Opan and Mitaka marched onto the shuttle, and the pilot eased it out of the hangar.

The masquerade ball was a spectacle unlike anything Hux had seen outside of a holodrama. Not that he would ever admit to watching episodes of _Excesses of the Republic_ with his eyes dry and tired from forgetting to blink at the bare ostentation, bare greed and bare flesh displayed weekly for all to gawk at. The costumes worn by his hosts looked as if they had been planned months ago and constructed by a small army of dressmakers. Hux made politely appreciative comments about the costume of each person he was formally introduced to, and received slight praise in return to the point of embarrassment that he had not thought to get the Finalizer’s entire complement of dressmakers to make him something more regal.

Hux soon realised that there was little gain to be had beyond the goodwill that his attendance in costume ensured. Once he’d heard the conversation turn away from politics to meaningless babble about the particular costumes on display for the fourth or fifth time, he began to wonder how long politeness dictated that he would be required to stay. When he scanned the room and came up two Mandalorians short, he wondered if his assistants had simply abandoned him to a long, slow death by boredom.

Walking around the perimeter of the hall, Hux felt rather than heard footsteps behind him. He stopped and turned. He found himself face to face with a guest who took his breath away.

_Stunning._

“Good evening.” The figure tilted their head, making the decorations in their elaborate headdress sparkle in the light. “I like your costume, although to carry it off properly you should try to stride with more menace.”  
The voice was deep enough to sound masculine, but light in tone and there was a smile on red and gold painted lips, set in chalk-white skin. The paleness was relieved by two dots of matching colour high on the cheekbones. Dark hair scraped back under the headdress framed a face with a strong forehead, thick but shaped eyebrows, and brown eyes flecked with amber, lids painted in red and gold to match their lips.

“Ah!” Hux said. “Hah. Well then. Right.” He knew how silly he sounded through the vocoder and it made his face burn with embarrassment inside the helmet. “I will certainly try to remember that.”  
“Good,” the man said, taking Hux by the arm and wafting him in with a scent reminiscent of a conifer forest after the rain.  
_Think of a compliment, man!_  
Hux looked at his new companion’s profile. It seemed familiar, but Hux just couldn’t place where he might have seen this creature before. “Your costume is particularly striking. And elegant. Yes, elegant.”  
“Thank you. Do you recognise which planet I represent?”  
_Oh sweet stars, is this a test? Is this some representative of this system, sent to find out if the First Order is too ignorant to be worth allying with?_  
“Hmm,” Hux said. “There are many systems that wear elaborate robes and headdresses, but your make-up suggests Naboo.”

The pale face lit up in a genuine smile. Under the helmet, Hux let his face relax in relief. “Do you have a particular link with Naboo?”  
“I have ancestors from Naboo. Now, if we have had enough smalltalk to put you at ease, what does a man like me have to do to get to see what’s under all that black?”  
“Perhaps,” Hux said, voice lowered in pitch and volume, “if we both lack alternative entertainment you can also show me what’s inside that glorious gown you are wearing.”  
“This way.”

The gorgeous man in the gown steered Hux out of the hall, along a passageway and into a room that had dust sheets on the furniture and over the paintings on the walls. He pulled the sheet from a low, elegantly upholstered couch.  
“Here,” he said, pointing. “Keep your helmet on. I don’t want to risk you trying to kiss me.”  
“Kiss you?” Hux echoed with a hint of annoyance. “You’re offering me a clandestine act of fornication but you’re concerned I might _kiss_ you?”  
The heavily made-up man looked at Hux with impatience. “Yes. I want you to fuck me but I have to go back into that hall with my make up intact.” He loomed close to Hux, painted face twisting into a snarl. “And if I don’t let off a little steam soon I am going to lay waste to that entire company of fools!”

Sudden realisation left Hux reeling. “Ren. It’s you under all of that. Kylo Fucking Ren.”  
“Of course it is!” Ren glared at Hux. “Who did you think it was!” When Hux didn’t reply, Ren gave a low laugh. “Did you think your shitty copy of Vader’s robes and mask were good enough to snare you an admirer?”  
“How,” Hux said faintly. “How did you know it was me.”  
Ren rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Hux. Who else would have the nerve to show up to a diplomatic function dressed as the Empire’s most feared enforcer?”  
“Well what did you expect?” Hux rasped through his vocoder. “I could hardly go to a formal masquerade ball dressed as _sexy Twi’lek_ could I?”  
“Shut up, Hux.” Ren pointed to the sofa again. “Are you going to fuck me right here like I want?” He pointed at the door. “Or should I go release tension in there with my lightsaber?”  
“Fine.” Hux took off his helmet in defiance of Ren’s instructions. “But I am not wearing the helmet. Don’t worry,” he said with a scowl. “I have no desire to kiss you.”

Ren grinned. He patted his voluminous skirt, found a pocket and produced a small bottle of medical grade lubricant. Hux looked at it with distaste. “Is this the best you can do?”  
“Have you come better prepared?” Ren waited for a reply. Hux rolled his eyes and Ren gave him a satisfied little smirk. “Thought not.”  
Something in Ren’s face lit Hux’s fuse. He walked forwards, planted both hands on the embroidered bodice of Ren’s dress, and pushed. Ren took a step back, caught his heel on the hem of his skirt and sat heavily on the sofa. Hux dropped to his knees, grabbed two handfuls of fabric and lifted Ren’s skirts high enough to duck underneath. The cream linen fabric of the underskirt settled around him like a cocoon. He pushed Ren’s thighs further apart with his gauntleted hands then set his mouth to work on the thin silk covering the bulge of Ren’s erection. Ren shifted, slipping down a little and tilting his hips to meet Hux’s lips.

In his fury, Hux let his mental guard down.  
_Is this what you want from me? You fucking bastard._  
He pushed one finger up under the silk panties and pulled at the fabric until he heard the stitches snap and tear.  
_Letting off steam. What the fuck, Ren? Do you need someone holding your leash all the time?_  
Ren’s cock slid free of the torn garment. Ren moaned once as Hux sucked as much of its hot, heavy length into his mouth as he could.  
_I am going to shove your stupid legs over your stupid head and fuck you so hard you’ll see stars._

_Yes!_

The voice in his head was startlingly clear. Hux hooked his arms around Ren’s knees and pulled him further forward, until Ren’s ass was almost off the padded seat. Then he grabbed the front of Ren’s skirts and threw the fabric up over Ren’s head. He shoved Ren’s legs up and open by the ankles.

“Stay still. That should reassure you that I won’t accidentally kiss you and spoil your war-paint.”

Hux unclipped his groin-armour and let it drop to the floor, then unfastened his trousers and pushed them down. He spread lube on the forefinger of his right gauntlet and used it to tease around Ren’s entrance. Ren’s hands held his own legs behind and above the knees, fingers digging in and leaving red and white marks on pale flesh. Hux used his teeth to help remove his left gauntlet then stroked himself with his left hand while he pushed his right forefinger, lubed and protected by black synthleather, into Kylo Ren.

Ren’s groan, muffled by his heavy skirts, was all the encouragement Hux needed. He slid his gloved finger in and out a few times, then in further, harder, and curled it until Ren grunted and his knuckles went white around the backs of his thighs. One handed, Hux poured more lube around the base of his finger where it disappeared into Ren’s hole, then on his own cock, using his fist to spread it around. He pumped his finger a few more times then pulled it out and lined up the head of his cock instead. Without a word, he pushed slowly, feeling Ren’s muscle resist then yield. He slid into Ren’s heat, biting his lip, closing his eyes, grateful that Ren could not see just how _powerful_ this made him feel.

There was no point in finesse. If Ren needed Hux to help him blow off steam, Hux would make sure he remembered this for at least a couple of days. He drove his cock home hard and fast, drinking in the flood of sounds that poured from Ren, chasing his own climax with singleminded purpose. When he felt his arousal build to the point where he’d risk losing control himself, Hux grasped Ren’s cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts.

Ren gripped his legs harder and moaned, loud despite the muffling from the fabric over his face. Hux felt the first strong twitch of Ren’s cock as he came, and he eased Ren through it before gripping the fabric of Ren’s underskirts tightly and picking up his pace again until he, too, reached a white-hot climax.

Careful of the dampness, Hux leaned forward onto Ren’s skirts and rested his head beside Ren’s covered face.  
“Did that,” he said, caressing what he hoped was Ren’s cheek, “release enough steam for you?”

Ren laughed and pushed Hux off. “For now.” He sat up, pulled off his ripped lingerie and rearranged his skirts. “But when we get back to the Finalizer, you are going to tell me more about this _sexy Twi’lek_ costume you mentioned.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the fic, go listen to the podfic!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606929  
> [link, I hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606929)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Unmasked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606929) by [Orson_Bennett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orson_Bennett/pseuds/Orson_Bennett)




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